


Terrible Story #9

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Deliberate Badfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-31
Updated: 2003-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 07:24:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11869422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Terrible Story #9

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Terrible Story #9

  
  


**Terrible Story #9**

Duncan MacLeod never heard such blatant foolishness spout from a brand new Immortal! Freshly made Immies initially reacted with shock, elation, _and always_ dumbfounded disbelief-anything but this unending torrent of nonsense! 

But let me start at the beginning. 

A tee-shirted Duncan was happily engaged in minor repairs on the barge deck. He whistled his enjoyment of the mild spring morning. An overnight shower had cleansed and freshened the air. He stopped whistling for a moment, inhaled deeply to savor the familiar pungent aroma from the river. 

With the aroma, however, came a faint Buzz. He looked around curiously; cautiously alert...but there was no one in sight on the quay. 'Strange,' he thought, then he peered into the water and saw her, floating face down, her limp body gently bumping against the side of the barge. 

The Buzz was stronger now. Even as he instinctively dove in the water to pull her body dockside, he knew CPR would be useless. As he carried her dripping corpse up the gangplank, he noted the purplish bruises encircling her neck. _Strangled!_ Not drowned. Oh, well. Another violent death, another newborn Immortal. 

She awoke on his couch, stripped naked, but discreetly covered by a warm, fleecy blanket. Duncan had been watching and appraising her. Thirty-ish, slightly bovine face, light brown curly hair, soft rounded figure, not accustomed to vigorous exercise, he surmised. 'That will have to change,' he thought wistfully. She seemed pleasantly average. Why would anyone want to kill her? 

Her eyes snapped open. Large, liquid, dark and dumb. Duncan couldn't help observing that awake, she now resembled a surprised cow. 

'Where am I? Who are _YOU_ and what have you done with my _clothes?_ I paid a fortune for that blouse...and the suit's brand new ...shopped all over Paris till I found the perfect combination of oyster white and olive brown... I searched for so long.... cost almost two weeks pay ... and my shoes! Where are my _shoes?_ You know how hard I looked to find matching _shoes?_ My purse is gone too! My outfit is ruined and _someone'_ s gonna pay....' She barely paused to breathe. 

'Whoa!' Duncan didn't remember the correct command for a runaway cow. 'Don't you want to know what _happened_ to you? Someone killed you but you didn't die, etc....' 

He valiantly tried to give his 'Welcome to Immortality' speech but his explanation made little impression. She continued to interrupt with comments like, 'A _sword?_ Out of the question! Manicures are expensive, you know... I will NOT have my nails ruined on a stupid sword! Can't I use a gun? Oo-o-h, a little ivory and silver one, monogrammed of course...maybe I'll get one to match each outfit...lugging the same heavy sword everywhere would be such a pain!' Or poison? So-o-o much easier...yes... and neater, too. On and on and on...she droned her endless complaints until the great Highland warrior, hero of countless bloody battles, wilted in pathetic defeat. 

He couldn't do this alone. He needed advice. Someone older, more experienced with handling newborns. 

Sometime later, MacLeod seated Molly (he had finally succeeded in catching her name amidst the incessant babbling), alongside 'Doc'Adams. The Old Guy sipped his beer, and appraised Molly as she sat huddled in one of Duncan's jogging suits. 

'This is ridiculous!' she blurted. 'The police will know what to do...they'll find my purse and shoes...no one is safe in Paris any more...you shouldn't drink beer ...you know it has too many calories...does being Immortal mean I don't have to diet anymore...or do I diet forever? And _working out_? Forget it... ugh, who wants to jump around getting all sweaty, grimy and smelly....yuchh, not for me, no way! This Gathering...it could be a fun thing...everyone getting together and swapping recipes and fashion tips from the old days...I would only want to kill an Immortal if she wore the same outfit, otherwise, live and let live, I say...there's too much violence in the world anyway...why don't we have a nice game of Scrabble...is there a good game show on TV...game shows always make me feel smart, you know... sometimes the contestants are really STUPID, don't you think...any chocolates around?' 

MacLeod and 'Doc' exchanged meaningful looks. No need to ask why someone felt the need to strangle Molly. Yet, Mac felt responsible. He found her. He must help her understand the significance of her Immortal condition. 

'Doc' stood up slowly. He would take the bull...er, cow... by the horns. He interrupted her prattle, inviting her outside for a walk. 

As soon as they left, MacLeod sighed with relief, relishing the silence and the knowledge that the Old Guy would know what to do. But his pleasure vanished a moment later when he saw streaks of lightning though the porthole. Then the unmistakable sound of a Quickening! 

He dashed out on the quay, just in time to witness his friend's last Quickening throes. 

'Why, Methos... _WHY?_ ' Mac demanded. 

'Someone had to,' whispered a weary Methos. ' _You_ couldn't but...... 

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'I'm a man who was born long before the age of drivel-ry.' 

Peace, Emit   
© 2003 

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